


city tonight (through the lights)

by orphan_account



Series: you get the gray skies outta my way [1]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Another Tourney at Harrnehal, Attempt at Humor, Canon Divergence - Tourney at Harrenhal, F/M, Falling In Love, Family Dynamics, Family Reunions, Gen, Inwhich the author hates robert baratheon, Jon Snow is a Targaryen, Mentions of Rape, No Robert's Rebellion, One Big Happy Family, Original Character(s), Original Child Characters, Past Relationship(s), Period-Typical Underage, R plus L equals J, Way Too Many Tags, Wordcount: 10.000-30.000, i forgot to add those before...oops, mentions of abuse, rhaegar married lyanna
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-12
Updated: 2017-11-26
Packaged: 2019-02-01 08:55:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 13,991
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12701562
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: To celebrate fifteen years of King Rhaegar and his wife, Queen Lyanna's reign there is a tourney that shall take place at Harrenhal. Families come together, old loves are lit anew, past lovers meet again, friendships and rivalries alike begin and end.(An AU where all of Aerys and Rhaella's children lived, Rhaegar married Lyanna and they have a nice big happy family!)





	1. i - lyanna

**Author's Note:**

> Alright, some things that happened in this world/au;  
> \- all of Aerys and Rhaella's children lived  
> \- Rhaegar was married to Lyanna (yeah, I know if he had a sister old enough he would probably be married to her - let me ship my otp, okay?) they now have five children  
> \- Shaena, his sister, was married to Robert Baratheon, they have six (!) children - at the time of this fic...  
> \- Daeron, his eldest younger brother, was married to Cersei, they live at Summerhall and they have children together  
> \- another brother, Aegon, married Lynesse Hightower, they also have a child  
> \- Rhaella didn't die birthing Daenerys but Aerys did die in 283AC  
> \- there was, obviously, no Robert's Rebellion and Rhaegar isn't Really obsessed with prophecy  
> \- Brandon doesn't die and marries Catelyn as he was meant to, they eventually have two children, Cregard and Celia  
> \- but Brandon doesn't remain faithful to her and has more than a few bastards (GRRM did actually say it was canon that Brandon had some bastards) including two boys he and Barbrey had called Torrhen and Bran  
> \- as for other marriages; Ned married Ashara, they live at in-the-process-of-being-rebuilt Moat Cailin; Elia married Baelor; Lysa married Oberyn, mainly because I say so (and Lysa deserves happiness)..and I think that's it?  
> \- also, Vaena is betrothed to Willas  
> \- EDIT: Viserys is now married to Asha!  
> \- There's probably more but I'm pretty forgetful :)  
> \- OH, there are no White Walkers :)))
> 
> Also, the title is from Say Goodbye to Hollywood by Billy Joel.
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> [Here is my tumblr and a family tree for this story, by the way! It might help :)](https://harrenhalll.tumblr.com/post/167926560162/for-anyone-wondering-here-is-the-family-tree-for)

Harrenhal stands proud, not so high as Winterfell nor even the Red Keep but Lyanna cannot doubt that there is power here, holding this keep is something to be proud of.

 

Shella Whent seems to think so when she greets them, welcoming them to the celebrations. The Tourney at Harrenhal was to be the greatest tourney of the century, and it would likely be one of the last great celebrations of this century too - it was 298 years after Aegon landed, after all. 

 

In two years, a new century would be upon them. Lyanna doesn't think of that for now, instead she thinks of this century, of now.

 

Rhaegar graciously thanks Lady Whent for hosting the tourney - it was in his name, as it was celebrating the fifteen years of his reign. And Lyanna too thanks the elder lady, who kisses her hand and says, "It is a pleasure to host the two of you, your graces. Queen Lyanna, I believe there are guests awaiting you - both of your elder brothers are there now, I believe." 

 

That brings joy to Lyanna; Brandon and Ned in one place, with her, after them all being apart for so long. It was like a dream come true. In fact, the only thing which could better it was if Ben was here too.

 

But Sworn Brothers of the Nights Watch don't often attend tourneys, especially not ones hosted in the Riverlands. 

 

* * *

 

Her brothers haven't changed much after so many years, all things considered. Brandon's hair was beginning to grey, just a little and there were lines on Ned's face but they were still her brothers, and what more could she want?

 

When she enters the room, Lyanna is quickly embraced by Ned, who is far taller than he used to be. Once he let her go, Brandon - who now has a cropped beard, which he didn't have last time they spoke - picks her up, spinning her about and Lyanna laughs like she was young again. 

 

Lady Ashara and all the children laugh, Ned wears his warm smile which Lyanna has so missed, and it is only Brandon's Catelyn who remembers her courtesies, and it is only she who notices that Rhaegar has come into the room. 

 

Lyanna smiles at the younger children, the elder are apparently without, in the yard. Ned's youngest two are there; Alyn is a handsome young lad, who tells her he is one-and-ten now, and his little sister, Robyn, is two years younger and has Ashara's pretty face and Stark colouring.

  

Both of Brandon's children are older, Catelyn tells her politely, and have gone to watch some of the men train for the tourney. Her eldest brother grins at her and asks if she'd like to see the horses. Lyanna says yes, without really thinking, and returns the smile Rhaegar sends her way. He knows how much she loves riding, after all. 

 

* * *

 

Of all her children Jon looks the most like her, like a Stark, and she's almost forgotten how much a Northerner he truly looks, but now that he stands beside Brandon the resemblance is uncanny. Jon is fifteen and looks exactly like Brandon did at that age. Next to him is Vaena, who is thirteen, and has dark-silvery hair and Rhaegar's eyes and face.

 

She is little like Lyanna and her elder brother in looks but her mannerisms are all Brandon, that is easy to see now.

 

As for her other children, Aenar had been fostered at Storm's End since he was eight. It's been hardly a year since then and so Lyanna is sure he will look much like he did a year ago - much like Vaena; dark-silvery haired, violet eyes and fair skinned.

 

She shall see for herself soon enough though, for Lord Robert and her goodsister, Princess Shaena were bringing their family to the tourney too - and as Robert's ward, Aenar was coming along.

 

Lyanna and Rhaegar's other two children were both like him in colouring but she in looks. Lyna had just turned four hardly two moon ago and her brother, Lucerys was her younger by a year, the babe of their little brood. And gods, he looked so like Jon but for his silver-brown hair and bright purple eyes.

 

Her youngest three are away with their grandmother. Normally, Lyanna would hate to burden Rhaella with her younger children who were even more excited than usual, but she sees how true Rhaella's smile is when she is with the children. And she so does love to see her goodmother smile.

 

* * *

 

Going to see horses with Brandon were some of Lyanna's best memories of her childhood and that's why she was so happy to go see some with him now. (It is different now from when they were children, of course; he was the Lord of Winterfell now and she Queen of the Seven Kingdoms - and there was a Knight of the Kingsguard following behind them, Ser Barristan.)

 

Jon and Vaena do not seem nearly so thrilled - but then, as the Crown Prince and eldest princess they have grown up with far fancier breeds than any you might find up North.

 

Besides, they saw their Uncle Viserys and practically ran away to see him - their sworn shield, Ser Arthur and Ser Jaime, respectively - could hardly keep up. Viserys had been off in Dorne for many moons, visiting his betrothed, the Princess Arianne. 

 

On the way to the Northerners' stables, Lyanna and Brandon pass through where the children are. It isn't just their's though, but many highborn children, some watching the lords and knights practise, some playing around. Lyanna is happy to see it, children so deserve to be as joyful as these ones are now. 

 

"Where might your children be, Brandon? Pray tell me you haven't lost them already," Lyanna japes, her hand in the crook of his elbow. 

 

Brandon's laughter booms loud as ever. "Unfortunately, no I am not so lucky," he jests in reply. "Oh, over there by young Ser Renly, I see them."

 

She looks over, eyes squinting so to see in the bright sun light. She does see two older children with flame-coloured hair. They seem to be talking with one another (and purposely not speaking with any of the others in the yard.)

 

"Well," Lyanna says, "we must go speak with them. The last time I saw Celia she was but a babe, still speaking her first words, and Cregard could just barely crawl."

 

Her brother shakes his head at that, fondly enough. "They walk and talk enough now - too much for an old man such as I to bear, really."

 

Lyanna laughs at that and tells her brother of his greying hair. Brandon japes, saying that she should blame the children and the stress they have placed upon him.

 

* * *

 

 

By the time he has finished his mocking rant about his children, they have reached the young lord and lady in question. 

 

Cregard and Celia are but a year apart and have Brandon's look and eyes, but Lady Catelyn's firey-hair. Really, they could be twins. 

 

"Your grace," they both say, the two of them standing up, Cregard to bow and Celia to curtsey. _They're as polite as their mother_ , Lyanna notes with a smile. 

 

"My lord, my lady, you have grown so much since last I saw the two of you. I have missed you both very much." They murmurs words of agreement. "I must ask, my nephew and niece, do you find the other children boring, you are so far away from them?" Lyanna jests.

 

Her nephew half nods, and looks as though he truly is bored of the whole tourney already - Cregard looks bored of her too, actually.

 

Lady Celia is perhaps just as enthusiastic about the other children, but is less obvious about it. "Never, your grace, we simply wish to watch Ser Renly and some of the other knights spar."

 

" _You_ do, you mean," Cregard counters, smirking - so like Brandon! "The whole of the Riverlands must surely know you have a fancy for Ser Renly - you were practically _drooling_ over him earlier!" 

 

Celia looks rather outraged, Lyanna sees with not a little amusement. "Need you be so cruel?" She asks her brother, she looks now quite flustered. Lyanna thinks they look most like Brandon when they are less demure, more like children. 

 

"Oh, I apologise, sister of mine, but I doubt you have much of a chance with Ser Renly - I hear he had little interest in women -" Cregard grins, apparently pleaded with how annoyed his sister is. Oddly, it reminds Lyanna of Brandon and Ned when they were young.

 

It is Celia who seems to notice that there are others around - their father and the queen, to be precise. "I apologise for my brothers ridiculous behaviour," she tells them solemnly, back to being polite again. 

 

Back to being too wise, too revered, too mature for children of fourteen and thirteen respectively, Lyanna thinks with a sigh. It is as though they don't much like Brandon.

 

Children shouldn't build up such a wall against the world; and not against their father either, Lyanna thinks, looking at Brandon who seems quite unfazed that his children have turned from being rightfully childish, as free and spirited as he himself, to being as drawn back and formal as perhaps...Rhaegar.

 

At least, Lyanna thinks in a vain attempt to comfort herself against such thoughts (like: she can only imagine how lonely these two must be, if they cannot even be themselves with their father, and even their aunt; or like: is there a reason they find their father so difficult to be children around, has he done something to them?), they have each other, at least.

 

"You need not apologie," Lyanna tells them fondly, smiling at them. "I was most amused."

 

Brandon nods, he too is smiling a little but his children are not - not genuinely anyway. Cregard bows again, and Celia curtseys and they both wish Lyanna and Brandon a good day. 

 

* * *

 

 

Lyanna almost asks Brandon about his children - about why they act like that, if it's just her, or just he, they are like that with - but he is already bringing her to the horses, where many of the guards who were there when she was growing up, who watched her grow, and some of the young guards are boys who grew with her are there; men she hasn't seen in at least a decade!

 

These are men she has truly missed, especially those such as Vayon Poole, who Ned was once quite close to, and the Cassels, Ser Rodrik and Jory especially.

 

(Brandon tells her that Ser Rodrik - harsh, strong Ser Rodrik, who could scare just as well as he could teach - had a young daughter, named Beth, who he absolutely doted on.)

 

Lyanna doesn't forget about Cregard and Celia, and how she must speak to either Brandon or Lady Catelyn about them...but she does push them from the very front of her mind. Anyway, she might well be over thinking it - just, she has an odd feeling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! I think Jon will be next :)


	2. ii - jon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon sees Vaena and Aenar again and meets his Uncle Brandon's two children.

The best thing about this tourney in Jon's mind is that he gets to see his two siblings again, Vaena and Aenar, who both left to be fostered at Highgarden and Storm's End respectively.

He is with Vaena now and they are going to see Aenar. Of course, Vaena said they _must_ pass through where the young men are practising for the melee and the joust.

She was thirteen now, Jon knew some girls were wed at less, but he still didn't like the idea of his sister finding any man handsome.

"Jon," she says, getting his attention, "have any young maidens yet caught your eye?"

"No, none have, though I can only assume a man or two has caught your attention, yes?"

Vaena blushes. "Perhaps." She is quiet for a moment, then speaks up, an entirey, uninnocent smile upon her lips, "Did you hear that Uncle Brandon shall take part in the joust?"

Her brother has a disgusted look on his face. "Gods, Vaena! He is your uncle!"

Vaena laughs. Once she calmed herself she grins at him. "Leave off, you fool, he is far too old for me!"

"And too _related_ for you, I think," Jon mutters, then upon seeing his sister's smirk he laughs. "Whatever shall we do with you sister mine? Not only are you lusting after a grown man, who so happens to be your uncle, but you are doing it while being promised to another."

Jon is jesting, of course, but when he sees Vaena's face fall he stops.

"Sister, what troubles you?" Jon asks, putting a hand gently on her arm.

His sister shakes her head, a sad smile on her pink lips. "Lord Willas is kind enough...we have spoken countless times during my stay in Highgarden and I feel a sort of...companionship to him - but I do not _love_ him Jon, and I am scared."

The Crown Prince comes to a halt there, turning to face Vaena. "Has he treated you ill, Vaena? What has made you fear him?"

"I have confused you, brother. It is not Lord Willas himself I fear but the idea of marrying him, if that makes sense at all?" Vaena asks, then continues when her brother shakes his head. "I like him and think he shall be a good husband and father to any children we might have. But the idea of being bound to a man I do not love...It gives me an odd feeling, is all."

Jon isn't too sure what to say to that, he just hugs his sister from the side. She smiles at him and Jon is thankful she understands that he does want to protect her, even if he cannot put it into words.

He looks back to see Ser Arthur, the man who has been his sworn shield since Jon's birth, nodding, as though he was happy Jon was looking out for his sister.

_I shall protect her always_ , he vows to himself. _Always_.

For now though, there were other things he must see to, like his brother, who he could see getting off his horse, helped off by their cousin Osmund, who was Aunt Shaena and Uncle Robert's heir at three-and-ten.

 

* * *

 

"Jon!" Aenar shouted when he saw them approaching. He ran to Jon and Vaena, apparently not caring a damn about being proper.

Aenar reached him quick enough - despite his short frame his legs were actually quite long. "Little brother," Jon smiles at him. "I have missed you much, we all have. Mother often speaks of you and Grandmother asked for you plenty."

"I have missed Grandmother much, and mother too - the rest of you, as well, of course." He smiles and waves towards Arthur and Ser Barristan, the former smirks in reply. Ser Barristan, as ever, stands silent and still. "Where are father and mother anyhow?"

Vaena answers, embracing him too. "Mother is with Uncle Brandon and I think Father is speaking with Ser Oswell and Lord and Lady Whent."

Their brother nods, smiling again. "Where might my young sister and brother be? They cannot even bother to greet me?" He mocks hurt. Jon sees he has not changed even a little.

It is Jon who answers this time. "Grandmother is being terrorised by Lyna and Lucerys, no doubt. I'm unsure how she stands it."

"I too," Aenar says as Osmund comes over. "Oh, Jon, Vaena, you likely barely know our Baratheon cousins, do you?"

"I believe so," Jon tells him, nodding to Osmund.

His little brother goes to answer, but Osmund cuts in. "Then you, Prince Jon, have much to learn." Osmund smirks, _so_ like their Uncle Viserys that Jon just now sees that despite his colouring Osmund is as much Targaryen as he is Baratheon.

 

* * *

 

Their Aunt Shaena comes over too, holding a young babe in her arm - the babe must be Rhaena, who Aenar writes of. One of her hands is occupied with a small boy who cannot be more than four, Jon thinks, he must be young Eddard.

His aunt is a beautiful woman, to be sure, and looks much like King Rhaegar. Aunt Shaena is tall enough - though not so much as Uncle Robert - and though she still has her womanly figure it is easy to see she has birthed, what, six children?

Jon is quite glad not to be a woman - childbirth seems very painful indeed - and yet some women, like Aunt Shaena and Grandmother, even his own mother, kept on having babes.

"Gods, Jon, you look much like Rhaegar, don't you?" She tells him, one of the few to ever say that, putting a hand through his dark hair. "Five-and-ten already, I can barely believe it. It seems only yesterday I was there as your mother birthed you."

Jon loves his aunt, he does, but he didn't need nearly so much detail. He smiles though, as a prince ought to. "Thank you, aunt. I cannot remember that day but I'm sure my mother can."

"Birthing your first child is something you never forget, Jon. Fortunately, you're mother was well enough afterwards to give you siblings aplenty."

His aunt has a wistful look in her eyes. Jon has to wonder why; she does have six children, does she not?

All he says though is, "Indeed."

 

* * *

 

His mother insisted he meet his Stark cousins, Uncle Brandon's children, and Jon agreed with only because his mother was so pleased about it. She had grown used to King's Landing, he knew, and even some of the people but it wasn't Winterfell.

Lyanna told him once that she might stay in the Red Keep for a thousand lifetimes and she might love it with all her heart...but it won't ever be _home_.

Jon has only really known King's Landing, they went for a visit up North when he was eight but he can barely remember it. It was cold, he didn't forget that.

_No wonder these Northerners are so harsh_ , Arthur had commented (being from Dorne he found it to be very cold indeed) and Jon disagreed then - everyone in Winterfell seemed so warm and kind.

He understands Arthur now.

Cregard and Celia Stark were harsh, to say the least. They seemed to think themselves everyone's better, besides maybe some Northerners. Jon would like to put it down to them being nervous about being South, they've lived their whole lives up North, after all.

But no, they were being downright rude. (And Jon knew a thing or two about rude people - that's what you get for being a Targaryen prince, heir to a Targaryen throne, without looking anything like a Targaryen. Though, his father often said his eyes were a deep purple - but that's not the point.)

"What do you Southerners do for fun, anyway?" Cregard asked in a bored tone, he wasn't even looking at Jon, he was watching some of 'his lords' sparring. As though Jon didn't look more Northern that he and his sister put together!

"Well," Jon says, "we enjoy tourneys. I hear there are few up North?" He asks, attempting to make polite conversation.

Celia hardly cares. "Actually, Lord Manderly had a tourney barely two moons ago. Dare I say it got started quicker than _this_ one - we've been here three days and people are still arriving!"

_Spoiled brats_ , Jon thinks cruelly. _They are of my blood, they're a part of my pack, as mither says,_ he reminds himself... _but I am the heir to the throne and this_ oh-so-boring _tourney is being held in celebration of my father._

He doesn't say that though. _A king should be courteous, kind and clever,_ his Grandmother always said.

Jon thinks she drilled that into him, so to speak, because most of the kings she knew (her grandfather Aegon, her father Jaehaerys, her brother Aerys) lacked at least one - if not all - of those traits, and she didn' wish for Jon to be like any of those kings.

And so Jon is going to be polite, as a future king should be. "Our guests shall arrive soon enough and then you might see the splendor the South has to offer."

"Of course," Cregard replies in a sarcastic voice. Jon looks behind himself to see Arthur smirking. _Damn the lot of you_ , he thinks, annoyed.

Then, mercifully, his other cousin, Osmund came up to him, asking if he'd like to spar with he and some friends. Jon answers _yes_ and gets up, leaving his other cousins quickly as possible, not caring a damn for being proper or polite.  

Beside him, he sees Ser Arthur smirk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Why are Cregard and Celia such brats, you ask? Just wait and see (inafewchaptersoops) ....... :)


	3. iii - shaena

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning! There are mentions of rape and abuse in this chapter. It isn't shown but is heavily implied then stated. Just a heads up!

"Mama," Edd says, pulling at her sleeve so as to get her attention. "When might the tourney start?"

Shaena smiles, lifting him up, setting him on her hips. "Well, my darling, I believe it shall be on the morrow, not all the knights have yet arrived."

"Oh, alright," he replies, then he seems interested in something else.

She smiles at her youngest son, her darling boy. Robert had named him Eddard for his old friend and though Shaena liked Lord Eddard well enough, from the few times she had met him, she was pleased her son was not so melancholy as his namesake - and Rhaegar too, her brother, who she had wished to name him for.

"Would you like to go see your baby sister?" Shaena asks him, he nods in response, grinning.

Edd was so curious about Rhaena. When he found out he wasn't going to be the youngest child anymore, that he was to be someone's elder, Edd had vowed to dedicate his life to protect his babe of a sister - well, as much as a boy of four years could vow.

 

* * *

 

Shaena had thought that being at Harrenhal would let her keep away from Robert for awhile. She was wrong.

Breaking your fast with Robert wasn't always a pleasant experience, today was one of those days. He was moaning and groaning about one thing or another, even shouting at some points.

At one point he asks Osmund, "Are you taking part in the tourney, boy?"

"No," Osmund says, not nearly so cheerful as he usual is. Shaena rather hates Robert for dampening her ever happy son's spirit. "I'm too young for it, I believe. I'm squiring though -"

"Who for?" Robert asks, mouth full of food, not letting their son finish.

Osmund looks at the ground but only for a moment, looking hurt, then he rises his head high, facing Robert. "Uncle Renly -"

Robert actually gasps at that, muttering, "Renly?"

"Yes, father, Renly. He was been teaching me about swordplay and such. With Ser Loras now a knight Uncle Renly was to ask me about being his squire."

The father laughs and Shaena wonders if he was listening to the same thing as they were. What was so funny?

She got her answer soon enough. "I'm quite sure Renly would teach you much about swords. He taught Loras of them, I've heard."

Gods, Shaena think, why must he always be so cruel? "Robert," she says gently, "would it not be good for Osmund to learn from someone close to home? And Renly is a good fighter. He taught Ser Loras and everyone knows Loras is already a brilliant tourney rider -"

"Silence, woman!" He shouts at her.

Shaena once would have fought back, at least argued a little, but now her children are there - Osmund and Durran had seen this before unfortunately, but she'd prefer it if Corenna and Arella, Eddard and Rhaena didn't see such things.

And Osmund looks ready to hit his father anyway. She cannot allow that.

Once, a long while ago, Osmund had stepped in so as to defend her. That was the day Shaena decided that if Robert must hit someone it will be her - not her children, not _ever_.

 

* * *

 

 

As far back as she was able to remember, Shaena remembered she wished for a sister. A little friend to play with and giggle about boys with and all the rest of it.

She had Daenerys, sweet, pretty Dany who could have a temper like dragonfire if she thought it needed, but her sister was almost twenty years her junior! She still loved Dany, of course, except - Dany was her sister...Shaena had dreamt of a sister, and a best friend.

Eventually, she got that friend, that sister in Lyanna. Lyanna was able to put a smile on Rhaegar's solemn face and Shaena knew her mother thanked the gods for Lyanna - Shaena oft did too.

There was something about her goodsister, the way she never backed down and she always stood up for what she believed in, it was bravery Shaena felt she lacked.

The point is, Lyanna is her sister in all save blood and she is one of those Shaena trusts most in the world - her mother and Rhaegar being the ones she trusts the absolute most.

That is why she goes to Lyanna about it, about her problem. Lyanna will at least try to help, Shaena knows - and likely she'll beg to hit Robert, but then, when has she not wished to smack him?

Shaena goes to Lyanna because Lyanna won't just care, she will try to help.

 

* * *

 

When she finds Lyanna, the queen is with her eldest brother, Brandon, the handsome Lord of Winterfell.

"Shaena," she smiles, then when she notes the look on her goodsister's face the lovely smile on her face slips away. "Brandon, pray allow me and Shaena some time alone. We must speak of womanly things," Lyanna tells him with a raised brow.

He gets up at that. As Lord Brandon walks by her, Shaena can feels his eyes roam her body. She only just manages to not flinch. He says goodbye to his sister, grinning.

Lyanna stands up, walking over to her. "Shaena, what might be bothering you so?"

Then she feels frozen. _Gods_ , when did she become such a coward? She had the blood of the dragons, the fires of Old Valyria in her blood and here she was, terrified of some Baratheon who'd come from the line of a Targaryen bastard.

The queen sees the fright on her face, the shaking of her hands, and seems to understand. Lyanna turns to her sworn shield. "Ser Gerold, might you wait without?"

"As you say, your grace." And he leaves. Then it is just Shaena and Lyanna.

"What troubles you?" Lyanna asks, "Tell me and I might be able to help you some."

Shaena gathers all her courage, all her bravery. After fourteen years of roaming eyes, rough hands and rages...she'd had _enough_. "Robert," she says simply, then explains, trying to ignore the tremor in her hands. "He hits me and...once, gods Lyanna... - he raped me."

There she'd said it, after over a decade of keeping it hidden away. She didn't know what she had expected but Lyanna reaching out to her, embracing her as a true sister would...Shaena was grateful for it.

"This stops at this very momentl," Lyanna says, fire in her eyes. "He shan't harm you again else I'll have his head." They are both silent for a long moment before Lyanna smiles, "I know what we ought to do - I have a plan, Shaena."

 

* * *

 

 

Lyanna hadn't told her what this plan actually contained so she went about her day as normally as she was able. Shaena spent time with her younger brothers, amazed at how grown they were now. She spoke with Rhaegar some, and the elder of his children.

The day was going quite well, really. Now, she was speaking with Aegon and his wife, Lynesse Hightower who looks as though she has Valyrian blood in her as much as Shaena and Aegon. They had a young son, Aenyn, who would one day rule Summerhall as his father does now.

Then Lyanna comes over to her. The surrounding people bow and curtsey as expected - this is their queen, after all.

Lyanna smiles at Aenyn and embraces Aegon, she turns to Lynesse and they nod to each other politely. _She was made to be queen_ , Shaena cannot help but think.

"Come, Shaena, I've something you might enjoy."

She is brought to Lyanna's chambers, where her brother, Eddard, was. _No_ , Shena gasps, he is Robert's greatest and oldest friend - Lyanna must have told him, why else would he look so grim?

"You two have met, of course, but I shall introduce you anyway. Lady Shaena of the Houses Targaryen and Baratheon meet mine brother, Lord Eddard Stark of Moat Cailin - we call him Ned, though," Lyanna tells her, smiling a little.

Eddard looks less joyful. "My lady, my sister told me of your... _secret_ \- it shall not reach another's ears, do not fret, I am one for keeping secrets, as it happens. Anyhow, we must speak upon this matter."

The queen nods, guiding Shaena to sit down. "Quite right, brother. I believe you've something you thought Shaena ought to hear."

Lord Eddard nods, he looks nervous and uncomfortable but he looks Shaena right in the eyes - Shaena knows that must take courage and she respects it.

"There was another incident much like your one involving Robert and a whore. I'm not likening you to a whore, of course, but you know what I mean, I'd hope." Shaena nods, allowing him to continue. "He was...cruel to her. Very cruel. I couldn't believe my ears when she told me...he had taken her when she was unwilling, your grace, as I believe he has done to you."

"Yes," Shaena says, speaking for the first time. "That is correct."

"Well," Eddard continues, "I thought perhaps he was drunk, when he did it to both you and this whore, but apparently, from what mine sister gathered, this is not an incident that has happened only once."

Shaena nods. "That is also correct, my lord."

He too nods. "In truth, my lady, Robert is not the man I once knew, the boy I once loved as I did a true brother of my blood. I know him better than most- no, I _knew_ him better than most. The man I once loved wouldn't do such things. But this man is not Robert."

How terrible it must be, Shaena thinks, to give up on someone you loved. "I thank you for your honesty, my lord."

Then Lyanna speaks, an odd smile upon her lips, "I have an idea. Robert'll think twice before touching you again, Shaena."

She smiles at that, more at Lyanna's kindness and helpfulness than because she believes harming Robert will do any good at all. Even so, it is a start, is it not?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What even is going on?I don't know. 
> 
> But what do you think Lyanna's plans for Robert are?? (Hopefully death oops lmao.)


	4. iv - rhaella

As there was still yet another day until the tourney truly began Rhaella decided she might as well spend the day with her grandchildren.

Rhaegar's eldest three were off doing something together but Lynn and Lucerys always seemed to have time for the grandmother - time for annoying their grandmother, Lyanna had argued. No matter how loud they might get though, Rhaella couldn't help but absolutely adore her grandchildren.

To see their youth and innocence made her remember when she was like that - reminiscing of the past made her both sad and happy, really.

Thinking of her long gone father and mother never stops upsetting her but...well, she cannot forgive them for what they made her do, especially at such a young age - and Aerys too...Rhaella isn't sure what she feels for her brother, a part of her rightfully hates him but there's that small piece of her which cannot forget that he too was forced into a loveless marriage because of some damned prophecy some mad woman told their parents.

She adored Shaera Targaryen for years upon years - she and Aerys did name Shaena for her after all - but Rhaella realises now she idolised her mother. Shaera died when Rhaella was thirteen, and she despised her father for what he did to her, what he made her do, and she always believed that if her mother was there she'd stop it.

Now though, Rhaella knows that Shaera Targaryen, though an obviously clever and quick and popular person, was not at all a good mother - just as Jaehaerys was hardly a good father.

Though she cannot love her parents so much, Rhaella truly wishes her grandmother could have met Lyna and Lucerys - and Jon, Varna and Aenar and all their many cousins, obviously - because Grandma Betha so loved people with big smiles and loud laughs.

How odd that Rhaella so mourns her grandmother but not her grandfather or parents. Perhaps that makes her cruel, to not adore and mourn those who gave her life but really, Rhaella has had so much pain directed to her it would be so nice give some back, awful as it might be.

Rhaella hopes that one day her grandchildren might look back and remember her as fondly as she does Betha Blackwood.

 

* * *

 

In the end Rhaella, Shaena, Arella and Eddard, Daenerys and Lyanna, Lyna and Lucerys. It was so nice to just have a nice walk with some of her family. And later, Jon joins them.

Rhaella so loves her dear grandson and knows that when the time comes he shall be a very good king. Rhaegar has hinted more than once that Jon ought to look for a wife now - he was still fifteen yet but Westeros has always been better off with a queen, really - and Rhaella cannot help but think that that special lady shall be quite lucky to have Jon as a husband.

Whenever she looks at him, Rhaella sees a mixture of many a men in her life. Jon had Rhaegar's frame and quietness but Uncle Duncan's confidence, her father's love of knowledge and Grandfather Aegon's sweet smile.

There was even something of Jon that reminded Rhaella of Steffon, her dear cousin, though Rhaella couldn't quite place it. (Steffon had said, when he saw Jon as a babe, that there was a little of Uncle Daeron in his black hair - Lyanna's was more a dark brown, after all - and Rhaella saw it too.

She would have asked Steffon about it but he passed some years ago now, of an illness, and Cassana died hardly two years later.)

 

* * *

 

Rhaella notices that Lyanna is holding Shaena's arm during their walk and she wonders what has happened. She has seen bruises around Shaena's body and has asked about it - about Robert - but her theories were denied. Apparently, Robert had naught to do with it. Or so Shaena had said.

When told that again and again Rhaella almost laughed. _My sweet girl_ , she thought, _I've been covering such bruises since before you were born._

But she doesn't say anything, that would not do. Rhaella tries not to think about it and instead talks with her family. Daenerys and Jon are speaking about something surely only the gods can know. The younger children run in front of them, happy to be able to play with each other.

With half of them living at King's Landing and the others in Storm's End they could hardly be together every day. Rhaella smiles when she sees Lyna and Arella holding hands as they skip around together.

 

* * *

 

It is Jon who sees them first, a group of older knights who are coming out of some tents.

Lucerys and Eddard almost walk into them, Jon only just stops them.

"Sorry, sers. My brother and cousin are quote excited to be at a tourney, I think," he says, ever calm - like Rhaegar.

The knights nod, smiling at their future king and young princes. "You need not worry, your grace," one man replies, "I remember how happy I was as a child to see good knights and big castles."

"Yes," Lucerys says, "I'm just excited to see good castles and big knights!" Some of the men look upon the boy fondly. Rhaella hears Lyanna laugh.

Jon pulls his brother and cousin back gently, "Come now, brothers, these men are much too busy to attempt to keep up with your inane chatter."

"Farewell, your graces," the man says. "We'd best be off. Good day."

Many other men say their farewells but Rhaella hears only one. A tall, thin man with a stern face repeats what the other men say but Rhaella knows his voice.

His voice more harsher than she remembers and his hair is definitely thinning, not nearly so copper a colour as once it were. Even so, it's still him. How long had Rhaella dreamed of this? _Decades_ , it has been decades since she saw him last.

"Bonifer?" Rhaella asks, and she finds he is staring at her too.

 

* * *

 

 

Thirty-eight years it has been since last they saw each other. Rhaella cannot believe it has been so long. It seems like yesterday they kissed under that apple tree near Storm's End.

When she was younger she had prayed to all the gods she ever had been taught that she might see him again. The gods answered her - albeit almost forty years late.

Rhaella remembers those early days of her marriage, the worst days, when she would cry into her pillow and imagine all the ways Bonifer might save her. Rhaella had wondered of him for years upon years; what was he doing while she was crying, fearing for her life?

Was he well? Would she ever even know if he died? It was unlikely. Still, Rhaella thought of him. She thought of him every day for nearly forty years. Through all the pain and happiness and tears and laughter, every night and every day, on good days and bad, Rhaella had thought of him.

And here he was.

 

* * *

 

She feels Jon's hand upon her arm. "Grandmother, are you well?"

"Quite," Rhaella answers, clear and calm. "Ser Bonifer, are _you_ well?"

The knight nods, as shaken on the outside as she was in. "Yes, your grace. I am well." Has he dreamed of this too? Rhaella hopes he has, foolish as it is.

"Grandmother, who is he?" Jon whispers, looking over Bonifer cautiously.

_The man who saved my life, despite not being in it for near four decades_ \- that's what a bolder person might say, but Rhaella is many things...bold is not one of them though.

"A knight I met when I was younger even than you, Jon," she says, looking at Bonifer. He nods and Rhaella just _knows_ he has wondered of her too.

"Well," Jon speaks after no one else will. "We must be going...Father shall wonder after us, no doubt."

Rhaella nods - she must act like the woman who was queen for over twenty years, not a silly maiden who dreams of love. "Yes, Rhaegar will wonder."

Her grandson nods, giving Bonifer one last look. "Let us go then. It has been nice to meet you good knights."

"Aye," one of them says. Bonifer stays quiet, he and Rhaella throwing glances at each other. "Have a good day, your graces."

Then the men are away. Rhaella prays to all the gods she had practically given up on that she shall see Bonifer once more. Shaena comes up to her when they begin walking again. "Was that the knight you once told me about - who you met at Lord Steffon's nameday celebration?"

"Yes," Rhaella says, suddenly feeling more happy than she has...well, since she was fourteen. "That was the knight I told you of."

Her daughter smiles. "Well, you must tell me everything there is to know of you two."

Rhaella nods in agreement, putting a hand in her daughters. "It is a good story, my darling. You'll wish to hear it, I think."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright. Rhaella was married to Aerys at about 12 (!) but before that she met Bonifer and apparently fell in love with him, and he her, but she was at most 12! I find it hardly likely that a 12 year old could actually be in love.
> 
> So I aged her up so she was 14 when she met/fell in love with Bonifer. A 14 year old actually being in love is still unlikely but...it makes a little more sense?
> 
> Also, I'm a Rhaella/Bonifer shipper (OBVIOUSLY) leave me alone :)))


	5. v - celia

Celia was walking to the tourney grounds when _he_ come up to her. Torrhen Snow - one of her father's many bastards. Most of Brandon's bastards were from different women but Torrhen and his brother Bran were both born by Barbrey Dustin. His _favourite_ mistress.

Her father might like them but Celia wanted nothing to do with them. They were living, breathing reminders of her father's betrayal, of the false promises to her mother.

Not that her mother helped much, in truth. She'd made Celia and Cregard feel like they were ever fighting their father in some never ending war - they were now, thanks to their parents constant bickering.

Really, Celia didn't completely trust anyone but her brother and perhaps Wylla, who had been sent to be her handmaiden since they were both four, they were quite good friends now - and her mother, when it came down to it.

"Leave me be," Celia tells Snow, walking faster.

"Sister," Torrhen says, sighing as though he was tired, "have I done ought to you?"

Celia glares at him. "It is a rude thing to irritate a young lady, Snow."

"Stark," he replies with a smile, then he winks at her. Torrhen puts his arm through Celia's as though they were here together. "Who are you voting for? Our brother is good enough at tourneys, isn't he?"

 _Cregard is not_ your _brother,_ she thinks. "Perhaps," Celia answers coldly, tugging her arm away. Torrhen doesn't seem bothered, smile on his face still. "Now, leave me be."

The bastard grins, to Celia's fury. "You mustn't continue this, sister."

"Continue what?" She asks, her rage quite clear.

"Treating me so poorly," he is mocking her, Celia can tell. Gods, if he wasn't of her blood she'd have him sent away. "We are equal, sister. I am a bastard but you're a girl."

"I," Celia begins, turning to face him for the first time, "am a trueborn descendant of Brandon the Builder, daughter of the Lord and Lady of Winterfell. You, Torrhen, are born from a married man and woman who couldn't contain themselves, and you have the name to prove it."

To her absolute annoyance, he keeps on smiling. "It seems there is wolf blood in you, after all."

They are at the tourney stands now and Celia throws him one more cruel look before walking away. She shan't be seen speaking with a bastard.

 

* * *

 

Wylla is already there when Celia finally gets to the stands. "Where were you?" Her friend asks.

"Torrhen Snow was in a mood to bother me - _again_." Celia sits down beside Wylla, smoothing her skirts.

Wylla laughs, loud as ever. Not that Celia minds overmuch, she is so secretive it's nice to have some close to her who is so open and honest. "He is not so bad as you believe."

"You aren't forced to be related to him," Celia counters. She hopes she doesn't sound too cruel, Wylla is a good friend, one she'd truly mind losing.

Her friend grins, clearly not hurt. "Well, you can whine about it later. The tourney is starting."

"I don't whine -" Celia begins, but men begin coming out so she stays silent. She remembers that Cregard was partaking in the tourney. Jorelle Mormont, another of her ladies, shall like that; she has had a liking for Cregard for years.

 

* * *

 

There are many men riding today and none are of much interest to Celia. That is, until Ser Renly rides, lance in hand. His foe is Ser Loras, who once was his squire.

"Do you think your knight shall win?" Wylla asks, a smirk on her face. _You need to learn to whisper,_ Celia thinks almost fondly.

"He is not my knight," she says instead, turning back to the match.

It turns out he is barely a knight at all, or a good tourney one at least. Ser Loras fells Ser Renly quickly enough but the latter simply grins, shaking Ser Loras' hand when it's over.

Next handsome Prince Aegon goes against his brother, Prince Viserys. The latter goes down quite quickly.

It is his wife who laughs first, at him going down on the first round because he was too busy trying to tell his sister Princess Daenerys a jape - eveyone follows Asha Greyjoy's laughter at her husband, but he hardly seems to mind.

Prince Aegon's victory is shortlived however. His goodbrother, Ser Baelor beats him as though it were an easy thing.

Cregard comes onto the field next, his auburn hair blowing in the wind. Celia turns to see Jorelle smiling at him. She only _just_ resists rolling her eyes.

Her brother is up against a knight from the Riverlands, Ser Patrek Mallister. Celia sure she has heard of him once or twice but cannot remember where - from her mother, likely.

Cregard and Ser Patrek have a good match with many rounds but eventually Cregard falls from his horse. Celia looks over to see if he's alright but Ser Patrek helps him up. _A gallant knight,_ Celia notes then thinks naught of it when Cregard comes over.

"That was a good fall, brother," Celia tells him, japing.

"Yes," Wylla adds, "very graceful."

"Leave off the both of you," Cregard says without any real hostility.

 

* * *

 

The next few matches are of little importance to Celia and so she mainly speaks with Cregard through them.

Soon enough though it is the last joust, between Ser Loras and Baelor Hightower. They have countless rounds, each better every time but eventually Ser Loras' lance breaks and Ser Baelor wins.

When he gets the flower crown he gives it to his wife, the beautiful Princess Elia, and once she puts it on she looks a true queen. The whole crowd cheers and applauds, some standing up. Baelor wears his famous smile as he kisses his wife upon her cheek.

"Quite romantic," Wylla comments, "Wynafryd would have loved to see it."

Wynafryd was Wylla's elder sister. She couldn't come to the tourney for she is at White Harbour - she's also the heir to White Harbour unless her parents have a boy, which is practically impossible now. White Harbour shall do well under Wynafryd, Celia is sure of it.

It was odd that for all Wynafryd was brilliant at matters such a politics she did love romantic tales - Wylla, of course, claimed to despise them, perhaps just to counter her sister.

 _Sisters_ , Celia thinks with a sigh. _Gods is she glad to have just a brother._

 

* * *

 

During the time between the tourney and melee there is a table set up with some food for the high lords and ladies. The king and queen go first, of course.

Celia watches her aunt, with her easy smiles and warm laughter. When she was little Celia had so envied her queenly aunt, she'd wanted to be queen too. Now, she decided it was much too stressful to have to wear a crown - all the councils would bore her to death, for one, and that's only that start of it.

She would marry into a powerful enough house one day, almost certainly an heir. Celia would be given away by her father, going from being controlled by one man to another. Then she would give her husband enough children to please him.

Two sons would be alright, Celia had decided, an heir and a spare, and a daughter or two for alliance purposes. Perhaps she might be able send a son to foster at Winterfell with Cregard.

She knows that she will have at least a little say in her marriage but it's unlikely to be a love match. Not that she'd expect to be in such a marriage. The thought of marrying for love seems...absurd, really. Even wedding a man not of her choosing and _eventually_ loving him seems odd, unlikely.

Her parents marriage was arranged and they were very much not in love. Though, her aunt Lyanna's marriage to King Rhaegar was arranged and they seem quite content with each other now. The only people who've married for love that she can think of are her Uncle Eddard and Aunt Ashara - and that was only because he was a second son.

So, she has come to terms with the fact that she wouldn't love her husband. Celia was alright with that.

"Celia," Wylla pokes her, completely ruining her thinking. "Come on, food awaits us."

"You can tell you're a Manderly," Celia says under her breath. Wylla hears, and grins.

 

* * *

 

At the food tables, there is a lot of shoving and pushing - many nobles are quite hungry, apparently. Celia only barely gets a lemoncake before being trampled on.

 _Gods_ , she thinks looking at all the men and women, _contains yourselves_.

"Quite busy, isn't it?" She hears someone say. Celia turns to see a man who cannot be all that older than her. The man is tall and lean and has blue-grey eyes and dark brown hair. On his chest he wears a silver eagle on a purple field.

Celia recognises him as Patrek Mallister, the one who got her brother out of the tourney.

"Indeed," she replies, polite as she can.

"How does your brother fare?" Patrek asks, an easy smile on his face.

"Alright, I believe," Celia answers. "I think it was good for him to lose, his ego has been rather big as of late."

Patrek laughs at that. "He is a handsome young man, a good enough rider too, let him thinks he's the greatest of men."

"Do all men think in such a way?" Celia asks, a smile on her lips.

"Well, I cannot speak for all men...but it is certainly a yes from me." He is quite close to her, Celia realises. Wylla would have a rude thing to say about this, she thinks, hoping she doesn't blush.

Celia nods, trying to subtly take a step back. She won't be caught in an inappropriate situation such as this.

Unfortunately, Patrek sees it. "Oh, my lady, I've been quite rude. I am Ser Patrek Mallister, son of Lord Jason amd heir to Seaguard. And you?"

You know who I am, she almost says but holds back. "I am Lady Celia Stark, daughter of Lord Brandon and Lady Catelyn."

"Oh yes! Catelyn, she is Edmure's sister, of course. Your uncle and I are good friends - though I'm not so old as him, of course."

"And how old are you?" Celia asks him, unsure when she became so improper. But Patrek hardly seems to mind.

"Well, I turned eight-and-ten just a moon ago, my lady. And how many namedays have you seen, Celia?" He asks casually as though he asking her age and calling her by her first name is a common, proper thing.

"I shall be four-and-ten soon enough," Celia answers, realising just how young she is, at least compared to Patrek. _Ser Patrek_ , she corrects herself.

He seems to be trying to hide his shock. "You're thirteen?" She nods. "Well, you look...older - more mature?"

"I've been told that before...I think me being tall makes people believe me to older than I truly am," Celia says, attempting to aid him.

"Ah, yes," he says, looking fat less confident and more uneasy than he had before. Celia finds that she does quite hate that. "That'll be why."

There is an awkward silence between the two of them. Wylla - loud, interrupting Wylla - comes skipping over. "Come, Celia, the melee shall begin soon. Good day, Ser Patrek."

"Yes," he agrees. "It is a good day. Farewell, my lady - my _ladies_."

Wylla places her arm through Celia's practically dragging her to the stands. She nods to Patrek - _Ser Patrek_ \- and he smiles at her. Celia thinks she is blushing and curses herself.

" _Seven hells_ ," Wylla exclaims when they are just barely out of his hearing, "I think he likes you!"

"Be off," Celia says but she doesn't sound nor feel all that annoyed at all. In fact, she is happier than she has been since they rode South, her father's bastards in tow, a frown on her mother's face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1) this was longer than I thought it would be. I got carried away at the end! (As in this is 500 words longer than I planned.......)
> 
> 2) maybe I forgot how young Celia was?my excuse is...they grow up fast???
> 
> 3) Apparently I have a new crack ship? #celiaxpatrek? Edmure is At Least 9 years older than Celia (she was born in 283AC btw) so she's like 22 now but...for some reason I want Celia and Patrek? Leave Me Alone!
> 
> 4) adding on from 3, it's so weird because I want/wanted Celia to be annoying and also I've never written or barely thought about Patrek before so yeah...I have no idea what this is!


	6. vi - ashara

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Near the end with Robert, take it as a joke :) It's not meant to be serious I just wanted to annoy Robert!

Ashara never has cared overly much for melees, nor tourneys in general, but Arthur is partaking in it so she simply must attend.

There are not so many watching this part of the tourney as there was the joust and so Ashara doesn't need to sit at her proper station, not really. (Besides, Ned hadn't come to this one - he barely knew the rules of melees, bless his northern heart.)

Instead, she goes over to her old friend.

"Princess Elia- or is it lady? I am still quite confused," Ashara tells them, sitting down without an invitation. Elia smiles, moving to give her room.

"Well, Lady Stark," Elia begins, "seeing as it has been some twenty years I feel you should know it by now."

Ashara laughs, happy that the years haven't taken her friend's wit. "Oh, now you're confused. Lady Stark is that woman over there, sitting beside her sister...as I recall, her sister is yours too?"

"Lysa," Elia says the name fondly, as one would a child's. "She is sweet. Oberyn and she are happy together, no years shall change that, I think."

"And what of Ellaria?" Ashara asks, not even in a japing voice. Just casually, as though talking about how a prince and his wife sharing a woman in the ways they do is quite normal.

It is the Lady Hightower's turn to laugh now. "Yes, Ellaria too, of course."

 

* * *

 

Elia's son, Lewyn, a handsome lad with fine features, is squiring for Oberyn. It makes Ashara wonder if her children shall ever ride in tourneys. It was not popular in the North, but for rare exceptions.

Perhaps she could convince Ned to send Alyn to White Harbour? Their second son had shown an interest in tourneys since they got here, after all.

The others had too, just Alyn more so - well, Eliana seemed far more interested in the men riding than the riding itself but Ashara could hardly blame her. She'd been much the same at ten-and-four.

Young Robyn was nine and preferred to play with her cousins than giggle about boys - Ashara knew Ned wished for her to stay as such forever. Robyn's eldest brother, Osric, no doubt thought the same. He was so protective of his younger siblings.

Ashara wondered where Osric was now. Perhaps with Ned, or maybe his cousin Prince Jon? The latter seemed more likely - what sixteen year old boy wished to spend time with his father, after all?

 

* * *

 

Oberyn lost to Ashara's goodbrother, Brandon, but it was clear neither of them were serious about the match. Still, everyone was entertained. Even though neither are champion yet - especially Oberyn - they take a rose and give one each to their respective wives.

The Tully sisters grinned bright as the sun. Afterwards, the whispered to wach other, just as Ashara did with Elia - like _sisters_ would.

That got Ashara thinking of Allyria. She'd seen her young sister earlier with the young Lord Dondarrion. Allyria had written about him more than once before, Ashara remembered. Might be there was something to it?

Her friend speaks, brining her back from her thoughts. "Ashara, have you seen Lewyn?" Elia asks, only a little bit of fear in her voice. Ashara supposed she was especially protective of her son, considering he was Elia's only babe.

"He went off with the other squires, I think. Young Trystabe might have been with him."

"Alright then, _oh gods_ look - Robert Baratheon is riding out!" Elia says, nodding to the other side of the field.

Lord Robert was once a handsome young man, with muscles that any man should want, and charm that would get any lady to keep his bed warm at night. Robert had looked like some god with his bright eyes, easy grins and dark curls - he had been very handsome indeed.

It was safe to say that those days were _long_ behind him.

 

* * *

 

It all happens quite quickly but one moment Robert is riding and then the next he is on the ground, cursing and grunting. His opponent, Brandon, seems far too pleased with himself for this to be made accident.

Ashara decides she shall find out what is going on.

First though, Elia insists she must watch Baelor win the game. He does, obviously, for Brandon didn't seem to even try to win. Ashara wonders if he was taking part just to beat Robert. _But why?_

Baelor goes against Prince Daeron, who beats him with not a little hardship. When she turns to look, Ashara sees that Elia still smiles at Baelor. Her husband is hers, winner of loser - much like Ned is Ashara's, really.

 

* * *

 

 

Eventually, the melee is over for the day. Ashara is with Elia to congratulate Baelor when she sees some men half-dragging Robert Baratheon across the field, far enough way no one else seems to have noticed.

From afar it is hard to tell the sigil on their cloaks but if Ashara had to bet she'd say it's two griffins; one orange, one white.

 _Gods, why on earth would Jon Conington's men be dragging Robert Baratheon away?_ Clearly, they were trying to be discreet.

Someone else comes along to help the men. _No, it cannot be, is that Arthur?_

Well, she must follow to see what her brother is planning on doing to the Lord of the Stormlands, goodbrother to the king. Ashara places a hand on Elia's arm. "I must be off, Elia. I shall see you before we leave, you too Baelor."

"Good day," Baelor says, he wears that smile that Elia once said she fell in love with.

But now is not the time for romance. "Farewell," says Elia. She looks more amused than anything actually.

 

* * *

 

 

Ashara follows where she saw the men, turning back every few minutes so as to ensure no one follows _her_ too.

As she gets closer she sees they are in an area with overgrown trees. Ned had shown her it before, it look as though it had once been a beautiful garden but now, after too many years of not being cut, it looked like an odd mess of grass and trees.

When she gets to the pathway which goes into the clearing - where the men were now literally dragging Robert - she thinks she is about to uncover a truth, a conspiracy, when a hand touches her shoulder gently yet forceful at the same time.

"Ashara, where might you be headed?" Her brother asks.

 

* * *

 

 

Ashara truly wishes to smack Arthur on the arm - or face, even. "Well, I just wished to have a walk in this beautiful forest, I heard there was a lovely garden just up this pathway. Oh, and I couldn't help but wonder why the Hand of the King's men were dragging a noble lord across the tourney grounds."

"They need to learn to be discreet," Arthur moans. _As though that was the only thing wrong here._

"Clearly, Ashara says, "you are apart of whatever the hells this is. What, exactly, is it?"

Her brother looks as though he is about to deny it all but Ashara gives him a _look_ \- similar to what their mother had given them as children when they had behaved poorly - and he finally speaks. "I assume you wish for the absolute truth. Well, gods...um -"

"Just say it," Ashara interrupts, already irritated. Still, not once had she seen Arthur so nervous nor at such a loss for words. 

 

* * *

 

 

The Sword of the Morning takes a deep breath. "Rhaegar plans to hold a trial against Robert Baratheon in his sister's name."

"Seven hells," Ashara mutters. Somehow though, she almost believes it - Targaryens have never been bothered to act what most would consider socially acceptable.

"Yes...it's been found out that Robert has...harmed Princess Shaena. Rhaegar, obviously, could not stand for this."

Ashara takes that in, slowly. "So, he is practically kidnapping Robert in the woods. Why?"

"He can hardly tell the whole court how Robert abuses the princess. There'd be war!"

Ashara actually scoffs. "Because dragging a lord so high and powerful and _rash_ as Robert Baratheon into the woods against his will shall ensure peace."

"Never do we know, sister," Arthur says, almost casually. _Gods_ , Ashara thinks, unsure what else there is to say, to think.

Then, she knows what to ask. "Arthur, you say Rhaegar is there, you are...obviously Robert, Jon Connington...who else is attending this? Surely people of importance if you must guard it so."

"Robert Baratheon has more foes than he might have thought. There are...a few people here. The men you said, Stannis Baratheon- let me finish. And there's Queen Lyanna, Lord Brandon -"

"Wait," Ashara cuts in. Has ever she been so confused? "You tell me Robert's brother is here? I know they loved each other little but...this is extreme. And the Queen is here, honestly that barely surprises me - oh, and her brother too. Wonderful."

Arthur looks down to his polished boots then back at Ashara again, apparently having gathered some courage  He seems to be wondering whether or not to say something. "And your husband," Arthur says quickly.

At this point, Ashara is little surprised. Why wouldn't Ned be in a ruined garden of some old woods with half the realm putting some fool on trial.

Another thing she couldn't but notice was how bloody dramatic they all were.

But then, if someone hurt Allyria they'd have this and tenfold to pay. Perhaps she understood the madness after all - that might be why Ned is included in this, Arthur too.

 

* * *

 

 

Ashara is unsure what truly happened in the forest but by the end of the night people were saying how Princess Shaena would be travelling to King's Landing with her children at the tourneys end.

And, the heir, Osmund would be staying there when she and the others came back, apparently, squiring for the Lord Hand and being fostered by the king.

Taking away a lord's heir, now that was a good idea.

By the next day people were whispering of betrothals between Princess Lyna and Robert Baratheon youngest son, Eddard. They were both four, far too young for any serious arrangement but still...two sons would be with Targaryens.

Clever, Ashara thinks, clever indeed. No true harm was brought to Lord Robert - so far as she knew, anyway - but slowly but surely he would lose his children, and yet Shaena would be closer than ever to them. Truly, it was almost cruel.

Well, Ashara hasn't ever been overly fond of Robert anyhow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again: this is meant to be funny. 
> 
> Or, this is my attempt at humour :)))


	7. vii - vaena

"Sister, Lord Willas might still sleep. It is too early to thrust a visit upon him," Jon moans, clearly not pleased to have been woken up.

Vaena just sighs while braiding back her hair. "You just say this because you wish to still sleep."

" _Obviously_."

She tuts, just like their father. "Crown Princes shouldn't behave in such a manner, Jon. Do apologise for your irrational behaviour."

Her brother glares at her. "Princesses shouldn't be so annoying but we are what we are."

"Exactly," Vaena agrees with a smile, "and what we are is two people off to visit someone. Come on."

 

* * *

 

Willas is up, as ever. Vaena has come to know that often he wakes just hours after the sun itself does. He is feeding some horses, one of his favourite hobbies. Vaena finds it odd he so adores horses.

She thinks they are wonderful creatures, to be sure - just, if one of them crippled her Vaena thinks that love would dwindle.

She shakes such thoughts from her head, and goes up to her betrothed. "Willas, how do you fare this morning."

He smiles when he sees her, which makes Vaena swell with pride and...something else. "Quite well, my lady. And what of you, Prince Jon?"

"Jon," her brother corrects, out of instinct no doubt. Jon would be a brilliant king, and wanted to be so, but Vaena is sure that he'd rather be lower born - but that is for later. "And I am well, thank you."

Willas nods, smiling. "Oh, Vaena, come see Vermitha."

" _Vermitha_?" Jon repeats, clearly confused. "I apologise for my ill-manners, but what is a Vermitha?" he adds, remembering that he is a prince. Vaena tries not to laugh.

Her betrothed does laugh. "Being a Targaryen I assumed you'd know Vermithor?"

Jon nods, "He was a dragon, of course. Ridden by the first King Jaehaerys, and called the Bronze Fury. You don't have a dragon in there, do you?" He asks with a small smile.

"No, brother. Unfortunately we couldn't find any dead dragons. We do have a horse though, a living horse. Willas gave me her for my last nameday, she's named Vermitha - and not Vermithor for the latter was a boy."

"It's said that dragons are both male and female," Jon says.

"Yes that may be true. But no one ever saw Vermithor as a girl, did they? "

 

* * *

 

Vaena goes into the stables to see her mount. Vermitha was some pretty Dornish breed, and she was absolutely lovely.

She sees Jon is following along, attempting to hide his yawning - Ser Arthur too is tired, Vaena notes with a smile.

Turning back, she sees Vermitha. "How have you fared, girl?" She asks, stroking her mount's hair, which was a lovely golden-brown colour.

Then there is a crash, and a shout. ( _And was that Ser Arthur laughing?_ )

 

* * *

 

Vaena spins around to see Jon on the floor, water all of his new dark red doublet (she'll never hear the end of it: _"Look, Vaena, my new doublet and it's completely ruined!"_ ).

Near him stands Alla Tyrell, one of Willas' countless cousins. Alla was pretty but more quiet and kind than most nobles Vaena knew. She was of an age with Vaena, perhaps a little older and when not with with Elinor and Megga she often spent her time alone.

And, Alla liked, loved horses, near as much as Willas.

That's why she was out just hours past dawn in light, worn breeches, hair braided back almost in a Northern way; nothing like the Reachen girls usually did their hair, in fancy twists and turns (though, Alla sometimes wore her hair in such fashion). Actually her hair right now was more in the style of Vaena's (rather sour) cousin, Celia - simple but effective.

That is also why she was carrying a bucket of water in one hand and a box of apples in the other.

 

* * *

 

Vaena laughs at Jon, who looks quite annoyed. She sees him turn around to Ser Arthur whose large grin only causes Jon to groan more.

Then he turns to Alla and all that anger seems to fade away. Alla herself just smiles nervously, apparently unsure of what to say.

"I apologise, my lady, I believe I've wasted your horse's water," Jon says and gods, it takes all of Vaena's strength not to laugh at him. She turns to Willas, who wears a fond smile.

 _Men are fools when they are in love_ , she remembers her mother saying once. Not that Jon is in love...probably, it's just he seems quite happy to look at Alla's face.

"You need no apologie, you grace. It is your doublet which has been ruined, not the carrots."

Jon shakes his head. "It's no matter, I have others. And you might call me Jon, if you so wish."

Vaena sees Alla hesitate for a moment, looking nervous, as though she was unsure of what to say. Vaena steps in, so Alla doesn't get too worried over it, even though they both know Jon is being kind, polite.

"That may be a little improper, Jon, do you not think?" Vaena says casually, like the situation is normal enough. She sees Jon understanding the situation - that Alla was nervous even though she knew he means well - and Alla gives her a thankful look.

"Yes...yes, of course. I should go get changed. It wouldn't look right for the prince to wear wet clothes."

Jon laughs, in that way he always does when he gets nervous, just like their Uncle Jaehaerys does.

"Absolutely, your grace," Alla replies, nodding. "I should get more water."

"Yes," Jon agrees, nodding. "We wouldn't want your horse to die of dehydration, would we?" Even Jon looks confused by his own jest.

Willas' eyebrows sort of go up, as though he is unsure if he thinks it to be funny or silly. Alla smiles uncertainly and Ser Arthur just laughs outright, causing Jon to blush as red as the dragon on their sigil.

 _Gods_ , Vaena thinks, somewhat fondly, _you are completely helpless._   
  
  


* * *

 

 

Later on in the day Vaena goes a walk with her father. She had only just managed to drag him from his meeting with Lord and Lasy Whent - her mother has always called her stubborn.

Her mother also says that father has a soft spot for her, a special place in his heart that is hers - not Jon, his perfect heir, nor Aenar with his easiness, Lyna and her sweetness or even Lucerys' charm.

Vaena knows that Aenar is jealous of it, a little, but it's hardly her fault. Anyway, he should really congratulated her - it is no easy feat to make Rhaegar Targaryen smile.

"Have you enjoyed the tourney thus far?" Her father asks.

Vaena nods, "Yes, I have, father."

"And Lord Willas, I heard you have been spending time with him."

"I am to wed him," Vaena japes, "spending time with him shall do the two of us good, no doubt."

The king smiles at that, almost sadly. "Yes, there is logic to that. Now, Vaena, I know you did not choose to wed Willas and you shall do as your bid, I have no doubt of that, but I hope you know that you may not love Willas, ever."

Well, that was not what she was expecting. "I...I know that, father, I do."

"I do not say this to upset nor frighten you, just to prepare you. Love didn't come all that easy to your mother and I...for a time I didn't think it would come at all. But it did, which is a rare thing. Vaena, you may love Willas or you may not. Jon may love whichever wife he eventually chooses, or not. Love in an arranged marriage is a rare thing, Vaena."

"I know that," she tells her father. Why is he telling her this? "But, why is Jon able to choose his wife?"

Rhaegar almost laughs at that. "He can hardly choose, Vaena, there are few young women in this world good enough for the future king, just as there is hardly any good enough for you, my daughter."

"Except, Jon gets to choose," Vaena argues. She tries not to sound like a whiny child, she so wants to be her father's perfect daughter but...perhaps he has realised that Jon, his heir, _should_ be his favourite.

"He gets to choose who he spends the rest of his life with and I- well, I am stuck with Willas Tyrell, a man who is almost a decade my elder and who is content to sit in his solar or stables and doesn't want what I want, or like what I want. He and I aren't alike in anyway that matters to me and it is me that shall wed him, not you, not mother, not anyone else!"

Vaena just wonders how long she has secretly been keeping that inside, hidden away from even herself. She cannot even look at her father's face. What a disappointment she was! The one true and important task her father asks of her and she cannot do it.

"Father...I apologise..." Vaena says. When she manages to look at him she does not expect him to be smiling, wider than ever she has seen. And yet, he is. "What?"

Then, to her utter amazement, he starts laughing. Never has Vaena's father laugh so carelessly and freely and _loudly_ with her - mayhaps with her mother or Ser Arthur and Lord Jon but never with any of his children, he has always tried to be composed in their presence.

"You know," he tells her, once he had calmed himself, "that is just about exactly what your mother said when she went to her father about us marrying. And Lyanna always says you are more like me!" He adds to himself with a laugh.

Vaena isn't sure what to do but laugh, and so she does. Perhaps, just perhaps she might be able to love Willas - if her mother and father, different as the moon and sun, could fall in love surely she and Willas can?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was pretty weird to write, considering I've never been overly fond of the Tyrells (but I guess I ship both Jon and Vaena with them?).
> 
> Also, Rhaegar would totally have favourite's :D


	8. viii - rhaegar

It was the last day of the tourney and so of course there would be a grand feast where everyone could gather together before going their separate ways.

Rhaegar sits at the high table, as is expected but Lyanna sits with her brothers - they'd all be leaving on the morrow, Lyanna South, her brothers North. Rhaegar's own siblings were dotted about the hall.

Shaena sat with Daenerys and their mother; Daeron and his wife, Cersei Lannister appeared to be glaring at each other and beside them Aegon and Lynesse were laughing at them.

Even Rhaegar's own children had gone and deserted him, though he hardly minded really. Jon was somewhere, no doubt with Arthur behind him.

Vaena was with her betrothed's family, well, the Tyrells that had come to the tourney anyway: Lord Mace and Lady Alerie, Willas, Loras and Margaery, and some young ladies who looked to be Tyrells too. 

Aenar was with his cousins, Osmund Baratheon, Alyn Stark and Baelor, the eldest of Daeron's three. Lyna, Lucerys and their cousins Joanna and Arella were sitting with Jaehaerys and his friend Lord Tyrion, listening to some of their tales.

 

* * *

 

So much was happening that Rhaegar almost didn't notice that Robert Baratheon hadn't attended.

He turns to his Hand, who still sat with him, though had actually gone and danced - to Rhaegar's surprise. "Jon, have you heard of Lord Robert yet?"

"No," Jon says with too much joy. "I don't believe I have. Give me a minute, your grace." And his Hand left to go to talk to some of his knights.

He was back but a moment later. "Two of my men have been told by some Baratheon guards that Robert still lies in bed, drunk apparently."

"It sounds like him," Rhaegar remarks, sipping some of his wine.

Jon Connington has a grin upon his usually grim features. He always has had a hatred for Robert Baratheon, one that Rhaegar never has understood.

 

* * *

 

Lyanna comes to sit with him not long after. "Husband," she greets politely, putting her hand on his, "what did you say to Lord Jon?"

"Why?" Rhaegar asks, not annoyed merry curious as to why she'd want to know.

"He was smiling," his wife replies as though it is answer enough. And perhaps it is - Jon rarely smiles.

Rhaegar smiles himself. "We were speaking of Lord Robert."

"He was smiling about Robert Baratheon?" Lyanna asks, genuinely surprised.

"Well," Rhaegar says, "more about his absence."

Lyanna nods, a smirk upon her lips. "That makes more sense." After a moment she asks, "Have you seen _our_ Jon?"

"I don't believe so," Rhaegar answers, glancing around. "Surely he shall be with Arthur - they always are together."

His wife shakes her head, not looking too worried - they knew that Jon could care for himself well enough - but still, usually they knew where their firstborn is.

"He is fine, my love, of that I am absolutely certain."

"Yes, me too," Lyanna assures him. "It's just Ser Arthur is over there, beside...some Hightower woman."

Rhaegar looks over to see that Arthur was sitting beside Alysanne Hightower - Alysanne Ambrose now, with her marriage to Lord Arthur, who apparently wasn't attending.

If Rhaegar saw correct then Arthur was saying something funny for Alysanne laughs, then turns red. _Gods help her._ When Arthur sets his eyes on a woman...well, Rhaegar wishes Lady Alysanne good luck.

Lyanna looks to him, smiling. "I think Arthur likes her," she says, holding her laughter back.

"I think she likes _him_ \- poor thing." Rhaegar hated to be cruel but Arthur often acted like a cliché when it came to what some thought of Dornishmen.

Then Rhaegar sees Arthur lean closer to her, touching her hair. _Gods, had he lost all his sense?_ Rhaegar looks to the other Kingsguard he can see in the room; Ser Barristan stands just behind he and Lyanna, face as blank as ever. Ser Oswell stands on the other side of the room, near one of the doors speaking with his cousin, Lady Whent.

Usually the Kingsgaurd would be guarding the royal family, focusing on nothing else, but tonight they were able to relax - apart from Barristan, apparently.

Rhaegar can see why Ser Jaime isn't too alert: he is spending time with his family, whom he doesn't often see. Jaime is sitting with Daeron and Lady Cersei, and some of their children. The children were actually both Jaime and Rhaegar's nieces and nephews and they both knew them little: Daeron and his family lived at Summerhall.

But right now, Jaime was bouncing one of Daeron's boys on his knee, telling one of the girl's a story which makes them giggle. Rhaegar smiles at the image, so rare did Ser Jaime genuinely smile, it was nice to see him joyful.

Arthur though...he was ever happy and right now _too_ much so.

 

* * *

 

Rhaegar calls him over when he sees Arthur touch Lady Alysanne's knee - and she looks only the slightest bit nervous. "Ser Arthur!" He calls over the chatter.

Arthur turns around, looking so very confused and innocent. He says his farewells to the woman and walks to the high table. "Your grace, has someone attacked you?"

"Very funny," Rhaegar says without humour. "I hope you know that Lady Alysanne is wed,  with a son."

"Obviously," Arthur tells him, swaying only slightly. "She wed Arthur Ambrose perhaps a decade ago and their son has just turned eight."

Rhaegar nods, still not pleased. "Correct. You know she is wed and yet you flirt so shamelessly with her."

"Rhaegar, when the gods give you a trait you must use it well. The Seven gave me skills with a sword and so I became one of the most glorious and famed knights in these kingdoms. The Seven gave me such good looks, why not use them too?"

He can hear his wife holding back her laughter. Rhaegar remains calm, is he no a king? "Arthur, surely if you like Lady Alysanne so much you know the trouble that might be caused if you bed her, or even attempt to do so. And, you're drunk. You have my permission to go to bed - alone."

"I'm not drunk," Arthur argues then shrugs his shoulders, "but I suppose I am tired. Also, your grace, Lady Alysanne's husband is off with some serving woman, and their son at home."

With that Arthur walks off, looking annoyed.

"Gods," Rhaegar shakes his head. "What shall I do with him?"

Lyanna laughs then. "I know one thing for certain: his head shall hurt on the morrow."

 

* * *

 

It isn't just Arthur who feels ill the next morning, countless lords and ladies who got a little too excited last night seem to be regretting it.

Rhaegar is walking around the grounds with Walter Whent when he sees Jon - his son, not Hand, obviously.

"Jon, where were you last night?" Rhaegar asks.

"Oh...nowhere important, father. I, well I had some drink and didn't at all like the taste. So, I went to bed." His son is lying, Rhaegar knows it.

"Are you certain?" He asks.

Jon nods. "Of course, father." Rhaegar allows him to leave - and Jon does, walking quick as he can.

Lord Walter laughs, saying something about young men and their secrets. Rhaegar nods in agreement, wondering what secret his son keeps.

 

* * *

 

He finds out soon enough, when Lord Walter has left to do one thing or another and Rhaegar is watching over his men as they pack their things away to leave later on in the day.

Vaena comes over to him, smiling sweetly. "Good morning, father."

"It truly is, isn't it?" Rhaegar replies, embracing his eldest daughter - she shall return to Highgarden this afternoon and he shan't see her again perhaps until her wedding day, when he shall give her away right over again.

Vaena nods. "Where are my young brothers and sister?"

"Aenar is with your grandmother, Lyna with your mother and Lucerys with your Aunt Shaena," Rhaegar answers then asks a question of his own. "Did you see your elder brother last night? I saw him earlier and he was waving quite strange."

"Oh, yes...well, father. I think he was with...gods, he'll kill me for this - but he was with Alla Tyrell. Not in bed or anything," Vaena quickly adds, "just, in the gardens. I think he likes her, father."

All Rhaegar says is, "Good. I was hoping he'd fine a wife here.

 

* * *

 

Rhaegar tries to find Jon the whole rest of the day but his heir manages to avoid him. It is only when they are saying their farewells to their families before leaving for the capitial that Rhaegar sees his son again.

Jon was with Ser Baelor and Princess Elia's son Lewyn and Jon's cousin Osric, who was on his horse already.

Apparently Lewyn and Osric had grown close over the week, which was odd considering one was from Dorne - well, the Reach really, but the Hightower was close enough to Dorne - and the other from the North.

But Rhaegar cares little for those two boys right now, instead he must speak with his son.

"Jon," he calls and his son turns around, the boys' laughter and smiles gone. Jon says something to the two boys before coming over, not looking pleased about it.

"What?" Jon asks with more spite in his voice than Rhaegar thinks he has ever heard.

 _I will need to be stern then_ , Rhaegar thinks. He had thought this would be an easy, light-hearted conversation - obviously not. "Jon, might I remind you that I am your father. You should think of showing me respect."

He had never needed to be so harsh on his son since...well, had he ever needed to? Likely not.

Jon seems unsurprised but more than that, just unbothered. "Just as you did with your own father?"

 _Ah_ , of course Jon had heard the dark rumours that Rhaegar had a hand in Aerys' death or sped it along at the very least. "Jon, do not dare say such things."

"Of course, father," Jon says, not at all sincere.  
  
Lyanna comes over to him, smile on her face, with her brother and goodsister, Eddard and Ashara. "I shall speak with you later, Jon," Rhaegar warns, before smiling to Lyanna.

Jon walks over to his friends without looking back at his father.

 

* * *

 

By the time they leave Harrenhal Rhaegar hasn't had the chance to speak with Jon yet.

Now, Rhaegar rides with Ser Gerold and Jaehaerys. Behind him Lyanna is with his mother and sister Daenerys.

Far behind is Jon, who looks rather like he is sulking, and Arthur, looking his usual cheerful self again. Rhaegar has no doubt that Jon is speaking ill of him - especially because Arthur keeps looking from Jon to Rhaegar and begins laughing.

"What troubles you?" Lyanna asks, having ridden up to be next to him

Rhaegar attempts to avoid the subject. "Where are Lyna and Lucerys?"

"In the carriage with your mothet," Lyanna says simply. "Now, tell me what's wrong."

"I think," Rhaegar says, "we need to speak with Jon."

His wife nods in agreement. "Me too. For now though, let us enjoy this ride." Of course, Lyanna simply loves to ride.

Rhaegar nods, and reaches over to place on hand on his wife's. The tourney was brilliant, to be sure, but he cannot wait to get home. _When did he get so old and boring?_ That's something Viserys would ask, no doubt.

Well, Rhaegar hardly minds really. Not when he has his family with him - sulky though they sometimes might be. Actually, he almost misses King's Landing - which is something he'd never thought to feel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm the worst at endings!!
> 
> I spent way too much time on Arthur but I Love drunk!Arthur, you have no idea. #arthurxalysanne ammi right? Jon is such an angsty teen though...
> 
> Also, I'm thinking of doing a second part to this so if you have any ideas/things you want to see tell me! :)


End file.
